


Stay With Me, Princess

by nevercallmeangel



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Romantic Fluff, bellamy is a firefighter, clarke deserves some love, we mention lexa and finn but only in passing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24004525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevercallmeangel/pseuds/nevercallmeangel
Summary: “My name is Bellamy, I’m from the fire department,” says the man, no firefighter corrects Clarke mentally, and his eyes never stray from her face. “Can you tell me your name?”He was trying to hold her attention away from what’s happening around her. Clarke knew the drill. Keep the patient alert, talk to them, get engagement with them. Keep them calm. Emergency response 101 her brain commented dryly amidst the pain.“Clarke,” she wheezed out in a rushed breath as her body struggled to regulate her breathing. Each gasp of breath feeling like shards of glass pressing against her lungs. “Griffin”.orWhere Bellamy is a firefighter who helps rescue Clarke when she finds herself in a car crash. Simply wanting to return the pair of glasses found in the wreckage, Bellamy finds himself drawn towards the blonde and can't explain why. Cute moments and some typical Bellarke aversion to love thrown in, will they surrender to their growing feelings?
Relationships: Bellamy Blake & Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 25
Kudos: 174





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is my first proper attempt as writing anything lengthy and actually posting it so please bear with me as I fumble my way through this! But I had some spare time during quarantine and I really hope this helps fills someone else's time during quarantine as well x

All the movies depict the sharp sound of tires squealing, the cliché sounds preceding the grating clash of metal-on-metal. But there weren’t any sounds like that. The other driver hadn’t even had time to hit their brakes when a split second of distraction caused them to collide. A sound similar to thunder clapping rang out as the two cars rammed into one another. Clarke barely registered the look of horror in the other driver’s eyes before she found herself hurtling forward, only to be caught by her seatbelt and darkness to descend upon her.

Clarke’s eyes slowly blinked open, squinting at the broken glass in front of her. Blurry images depicted the stilled world outside the fragmented windscreen, and she realised she must have lost her glasses during the crash. Car crash. Right. She had been (currently still in?) a car crash.

_Fuck_

Her body was splayed horizontally across the dashboard of the car, with her torso leaning across the centre where there had once been music playing from. Her eyes closed briefly in grateful prayer that her car was still upright and the SUV she had collided with was also right side up.

Her mind groggily became aware of the noise of crackled music playing softly from within the vehicle somewhere. Her Bluetooth connection must have stayed connected through the collision and her phone was somehow continuing to play the playlist she had pressed play to when she had stepped into the car half an hour ago. As her mind began to take stock of the situation, the pain radiating throughout her body burned and yet felt like it was happening to someone else. Distant yet everywhere at the same time.

A voice called within the depth of her mind to try and move. If she can move, she’ll be alright. Every part of her willed to be able to move. Her eyes fluttered closed as she attempts to flex her right foot and finds that while she was able to make some wiggles, it was trapped under the pedal she had once slammed down in the attempt to avert the inevitable collide. Feeling a small boost of confidence at the moment of her foot, she attempts to shift her upper body slightly but it died when a fiery consuming pain broke out and a small cry of pain sounded out across the battered vehicle. Overpowering the broken sounds of the music playing from her smashed phone in the corner of the car somewhere. She reminds herself; pain is good. Pain means alive. Pain means feeling and that means she is not paralysed. A rush of relief coursed through her body at that simple thought, despite the consuming dull pain taking over her body.

Clarke tries to take a breath to ground herself but instead her entire chest constricts, a grating agony explodes as she tries to expand her lungs in her attempt to gather air. To breathe. But finds that the simple action causes her to quietly gasp out in pain. Her breathing becomes short and shallow as she tries to get oxygen into her lungs, but the smallest expansion of her chest furthers the pain already spreading throughout her body. Gradually her heartbeat overtakes all other sounds in the vehicle as she becomes more panicked about the lack of oxygen her body is receiving and the throbbing in her chest. Her mind goes back to her old textbooks, _stay calm_ , staying calm is critical. It was her chance of survival. Realistically she knew her subconscious was drifting into shock and that she needed to stay alert. 

Somewhere between the deafening pounding of her heart and the small, shallow breathes which consumed all her concentration, Clarke heard the echo of boots on gravel and broken glass. Tilting her head slightly, a dark blurry figure approached the vehicle and a pair of professionally concerned eyes peer down at her.

She hears questions being asked for her and she couldn’t remember if she answered them all or not. She remembers gasping out her name at some point when asked. The officer keeps giving reassurances and reminding her that she’s going to be okay, but his voice is distant, and she is unable to register everything he is saying. She remembers the officer telling her that someone was coming to help her and if she can stay awake for them. Clarke hears sirens blaring outside and the officer’s face is cast in a shadow of a flashing light. Red, natural lighting, red, natural lighting.

“… we’ve called the fire department…”

“…. Ma’am, can you stay awake for... Clarke, please keep your eyes awake.”

The world outside her small bubble began to become blurry around the edges and the voices around her begin to fade away. 

* * *

“Evenin’ princess.”

A gravelly, but gentle and reassuring voice broke out to her left. It distantly reminded her of the kind of assurance you gain when you are curled up inside while rain pours outside, and you are warm, protected. Safe. The voice calls Clarke to slowly move her head towards it, with a ringing pain blooming out as she does so. Despite the blurriness caused by her lack of glasses, she is able to make out a pair of eyes peering down at her through the smashed glass of her car window however the rest of his face is obscured by the helmet perched on the top of his head.

“Hey there,” comes the voice again once he notices that Clarke is meeting his gaze through the corner of her eye. His mouth tilts upwards into a reassuring smile and gestures behind him with a quick flick of his arms. The glass in driver’s side window has shattered and fallen away from the door completely, allowing the man to lean slightly into the window and talk more easily with Clarke.

“My name is Bellamy, I’m from the fire department,” says the man, no firefighter corrects Clarke mentally, and his eyes never stray from her face. “Can you tell me your name?”

He was trying to hold her attention away from what’s happening around her. Clarke knew the drill. Keep the patient alert, talk to them, get engagement with them. Keep them calm. Emergency response 101 her brain commented dryly amidst the pain.

“Clarke,” she wheezed out in a rushed breath as her body struggled to regulate her breathing. Each gasp of breath feeling like shards of glass pressing against her lungs. “Griffin” her voice stumbled on as if her own name was foreign and strange. Even panting out two simple words felt like a goddamn marathon and Clarke felt exhausted at the sheer thought of ever doing it again. Her eyelids drifted shut, as the idea of unconsciousness welcomed her with open arms despite years of medical training screaming at her not to do so.

“Hey Clarke,” Bellamy’s voice rang out again and he shifted closer to the vehicle. “We’re going to get you out of here, but it may take a few minutes, so I need you to stay with me. Can you do that for me?”

“Were you alone in the vehicle?” He questioned, with a sideways glance to the car seat attached to the back seat of the battered car, quickly for no hidden children trapped in the back. Clarke manages a minuscule nod and Bellamy lets out a relieved sigh under his breath.

“Daycare.” The blonde woman gasps out before groaning at the pain of the simple action, her face bunching up in agony as she takes short intakes of breath. Bellamy nods encouragingly before looking over his shoulder to see the rest of the crew beginning to approach the vehicle. A familiar face peers out from under one of the helmets as the figure moves closer to him. Shifting his face away from the eye line of the woman in the car, he ducks his face closer towards his friend.

“Difficulty breathing and lack of concentration. Tell them to get oxygen on standby and we need to get her out now.” Bellamy whispered urgently to his partner before turning back to Clarke with a smile back on his face.

Miller took one look at the determination etched into his partner’s face, sighed deeply before lifting the radio on his hip to call in the medics closer to the crash. The rest of the crew had approached the vehicle at this point in time, ready to extract Clarke and begin the process of the clearing the road. However, Bellamy was purely focused on the woman in front of him inside her broken car.

Bellamy couldn’t explain it, why he was so drawn to her and the crushing urge to protect her from the harsh realities of life. Maybe because there was some part of him that wanted to shelter her like he wanted to protect his sister. But something inside of him just wanted to hold onto her and not let go. If Bellamy thought hard about his gut reaction to Clarke, he would have been afraid of the instant pull she had on him but instead, his attention was solely on getting her out of her car and to safety. With practised precision, he stepped aside in order to allow the rest of the crew to begin the process of extrication. However, he kept within the eye line of Clarke and continued to talk to her, explaining the mechanics of what they were about to do and asking her to nod every couple minutes to ensure that she was remaining conscious long enough for the medics to examine her.

Within the confines of the car, Clarke was unable to focus on the specifics of outside life as her breath became shallower and the edges of the world blurred together. She could hear the distant voice of Bellamy talking to her, asking questions and reassuring her that she was going to be okay. Forcing herself to concentrate on the soothing voice calling out above her head as she vaguely heard loud clangs reverberating around the small vehicle.

The responders were beginning the process of extrication as they prepared to pop the driver side door as they wanted to avoid causing any secondary injuries to Clarke. Bellamy continued to communicate with the woman inside the beat-up car while assisting with the removal of the door. They were unable to treat her injuries while she was still in the vehicle, so they were under pressure to remove the door and get medics on the scene in order to examine her.

“Okay, Clarke, right? We are all going to gently lift you up and out of the car. We just want to get you checked out.” A voice explained in a calm manner, breaking through the pain induced haze and from her position across the headboard, Clarke could distinguish multiple figures standing outside the frame of the car which once held the door.

Panic clouded her eyes rapidly, despite years of medical knowledge which rationally knew she had to be moved in order to be transferred and yet the thought of setting alight the agony within her bruised body caused her heart rate to pick up. More than it already was. Bellamy saw the subtle change in her state and pushed Miller aside as he moved to reassure her.

The response crew slowly shifted Clarke from her position within the damaged car, through the tight gap of where the door had once been and onto the trolley waiting outside it. Lurching out in pain as they jostled her, Clarke battled the need to curl into a foetal position, stemming from the primal instinct to protect her body from any further pain. Medics rushed over to her bruised body as she was gently lifted out of the battered car, dragging a trolley across the gravel, wheeling squealing in protest. They hovered around her body, correctly placing her within straps to minimise movement when inside the ambulance.

“Madi.” She gasped out, suddenly panicked at the thought of her daughter. The EMT working above her head quickly reassured her that she would be fine before continuing their journey back to the ambulance.

Bellamy quickly made his way towards the trolley and maybe he was just imagining it within the heat of the moment, but he could have sworn that the panic in her eyes lessened slightly at the sight of him. Maybe it was just because he was a ‘familiar’ face in a situation such as this. Either way, he stepped closer to the trolley.

A medic was working closely above Clarke’s head, asking questions about her condition and pain levels as the trolley moved quickly towards the open doors of the ambulance. An oxygen mask descended upon her face, pressing tightly around the corner of her mouth as the air was pumped into her lungs. The plastic cover was quickly fogged by her hot shallow breathes as the pain continued to radiate from her chest. As her breathing became deeper, no longer fighting for every single breath, the extremity of the situation crashed down on her and she longed to just close her eyes. 

The last thing she heard was the soft voice calling out, imploring her to keep her eyes open but the urge to welcome sleep with an open embrace was stronger. She was just so tired. As Clarke’s eyes fluttered shut, oxygen mask pressed tightly across her mouth and medics working quickly above her, she heard one simple ask before darkness overcame her.

“Stay with me, princess.”

* * *

Bellamy watches as the ambulance speeds off, containing the injured woman inside, before looking back to the survey the accident scene. A truck had arrived at some point to collect the pieces of what was left of Clarke’s car and slowly the traffic, which had initially been stopped, was able to funnel into a single lane which had already been cleared. He can hear one of the members of his crew calling out to him.

“Just a second,” he calls back as a glint caught his eye when he looks to where Clarke’s car had once been and stepped closer. Swooping down, he picks up a pair of brown plastic frames. Shit, that must have been the reason Clarke squinted more so than usual for a trauma patient. She couldn’t see properly. Despite only wearing contacts when on duty, Bellamy knew he would be lost without the extra improvement to his eyesight and could only imagine how much worse the situation must have been not being able to see.

 _Princess?_ Since when did he nickname accident victims? Christ, if Kane, Bellamy’s pseudo father and department chief knew what he had called Clarke he would probably reprimand him for using terms of endearment on a victim. _Or carefully ask if he was projecting his past onto the present._ However, his trail of thought was broken at the sound of an amused escaping of breath, looking over his shoulder at the sound of a small laugh coming from his left.

“Coming on a bit strong for someone you just met, aren’t you?” teased Miller, thinking about how instantly protective his friend became at the sight of the petite woman. 

“I am not one of those creeps that pervs on injured women. I was simply concerned for her wellbeing, that’s all.” Bellamy responded gruffly, staring hard into the eyes of his partner and closest friend. Willing him to believe what was being said.

 _Try convincing yourself first buddy_ , whispered a treacherous voice inside him. And Bellamy knew he did not have an answer, even for himself, as to why he was so drawn to the blonde woman. Something was sparked within him, a need to protect.

“Concerned? Is that what the kids call it these days?” Jokes Miller as he tilts his head towards the glasses within Bellamy’s grasp, “What are those?" he adds with slight confusion laced in his voice. 

“I’m only going to return her glasses; she won’t be able to see and that’s scary enough alone,” Bellamy states defensively, fighting back the blush gathering on his cheeks. More prominent now that he had removed his helmet.

“Well, I’m sure Clarke will appreciate that.” States Miller with an amused grin. He hadn’t seen his friend this flustered in a long time. Bellamy ducks his head, but his grasp strengthened around the small brown frames.

“Why don’t you catch a ride back on the first rig? Get some rest before the next call comes in?” Miller changes the subject as he takes in the sight of the purple bags forming under the eyes of his friend. Bellamy was known for taking more shifts than recommended, determined to run headfirst into danger without much regard for himself. His friend had a crippling sense of duty towards humanity, especially when there were people he could protect. It is what made him such a loyal friend, if not a bit headstrong.

Bellamy nodded, if not hesitantly as if the thought of getting rest was a foreign concept to him. His hands still clutched gently around the small brown frames as he made his way back towards where the emergency vehicles were readying to leave. Miller watched him go with an amused look.

“Uh-huh, not invested at all.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But there lay Clarke, with a Venturi mask to assist with the seemingly simple task of continuing the rise and fall of her chest. The room was filled with the steady beep of the heart monitor, the electronic lines climbing with each fighting breath only to fall again seconds later.
> 
> “Just wanted to say thank you for saving her.” Wells tentatively voiced and Bellamy was broken from the depth of his thoughts and suddenly realised he had been openly staring at Clarke. He looked over to Wells with confusion laced on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will try to have chapter 3 up in a couple of days, but for now, I hope everyone enjoys this lil set-up! I have no medical experience so I tried researching the terms the best I could and treatments for them but if I have anything wrong, please let me know!!!

An incessant alarm rang out across the otherwise silent room and Bellamy’s body tensed before he flung out an arm in the general direction of his phone in order to gain some peace. Finally locating his phone and managing to swipe left after a few uncoordinated attempts to mute the alarm, he was left in the silent after taste of being awoken in such a manner. Furrowing his brows with his eyes still squeezed shut, he was left to ponder why exactly he had set an alarm so early when he was not working at the station for another two days.

_Glasses,_ a small voice rang out from the depth of his subconscious and his body stilled at the remembrance of the woman he had aided the day before. He had picked up a pair of glasses from the wreckage of her car with the intent to return them to their rightful owners. With the blonde princess on his mind, he pushed before the warm comfort of his duvet before leaving his bed.

Quickly jumping into the shower, washing away the dirt which stubbornly clung to his skin from the day before, he grabbed a clean tan t-shirt on his way out along with an over-used pair of black jeans.

Padding through his small apartment, he made his way into the worn kitchen and began brewing a pot of coffee for himself to drown down before facing the rest of the world. Dragging his face down his face, with his fingers ducking beneath the brims of his glasses to tiredly rub the corners, he momentarily remembered to call Indra to book another session within the month. Pressing the steaming mug of caffeine to his lips, Bellamy warily glanced over to the pair of glasses perched on the sideboard near the entrance of his apartment.

_Is it stalkerish to show up to the hospital?_

_Keeping her glasses for no reason would probably be considered more of a stalker move. Besides, she was squinting. Probably can’t see anything at the moment._ Responded the conflicting internal monologue he was having with himself and Bellamy sighed, wondering if this was the first signs of insanity. Resolved in his choice and determined to leave the house before he doubted his decision, he grabbed his car keys and the pair of glasses before leaving the safety of his home. 

Pulling into the car park of the hospital, he was suddenly plagued with a wave of doubt over whether his presence would be welcome in such a situation. Thinking she must be surrounded by family and loved ones, he was half tempted to reverse the car out of the spot he had parked in minutes ago and not bother her. However, knowing from personal experience, not being able to properly see the world for a long period of time could become overwhelming and with that thought, he killed the engine of the car. But before he could leave the car, his phone buzzed from the depth of his pocket and he quickly fished it out thinking it might be work.

**Octavia:** r we still on for lunch today?

Despite their rocky relationship, which was further strained when Octavia was in her teens and early 20’s, Bellamy always tried to ensure that he kept some semblance of a relationship with his sister. And recently, with some therapy for each of them, they were at a point where they were able to have lunch once a week together and for it not to end in shouting. Octavia was seeing someone regularly about her anger management and had newly begun sessions at a local dojo to release ‘all that pent-up shit’ as Octavia herself put it.

**Bellamy:** Of course, I have got to make a quick stop to the hospital, but I should be there usual time.

**Octavia:** Hospital??? Wtf r u doing there?

Bellamy winced internally; hospitals were still triggering points between them. A childhood of catching sleep in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs ensured that hospitals were only visited when necessary. Bellamy quickly responded to her message before tucking away his phone into his pocket and making his way towards the ICU.

**Bellamy:** Just dropping something off, I’ll see you at 12 pm O.

Despite noticing the sterile feeling of the hallways in the ICU, there was a constant buzz filling the room as nurses flittered in and out of rooms, phones ringing and the quiet reassurances of family members at the bedsides of loved ones. Propelling his body towards the nurse’s station, he was struck with the sudden thought that he may not be allowed to see Clarke as he was not a family member or a significant other.

“My name is Bellamy Blake. I believe you have a patient here who was brought in from an MVA in Arkadia Central yesterday evening, ah, Clarke Griffin, I think? I was one of the first responders on the scene last night and I recovered her glasses from her vehicle. I’d like to return them to her if I could?” Questioned the man, looking up shy towards the nurse in front of him, slightly self-conscious by his presence. But before the woman opposite could respond, a voice broke out from behind him.

“You helped Clarke?” Questioned a voice from the room opposite the nurse’s station and Bellamy turned towards the sound. There stood a man, peeking awkwardly through the open glass door of a room with a searching look on his face. But there was an open kindness on his face.

“I’m Wells, a friend of Clarke’s,” He quickly supplied, extending an arm out towards the other man and Bellamy is quick to respond to the gesture.

“Bellamy.” Replied Bellamy as he took a half step closer towards the room before remembering himself. Wells’ eyes seemed to flash momentarily before moving his head in a _come-on_ motion towards in the darkness of the hospital room.

“Come in if you want. She’s still sleeping though; I must warn you.”

Bellamy stepped into the room tentatively, falling into the shadows cast from the single window in the otherwise darkened room. There was a small light beside the bed, probably for the nurse’s benefit, but it seemed to cast an angelic light over the occupant of the bed. Gold hair spilling out over the pillows, almost a golden glow around her face despite her injured state.

_Snap out of it, she is unconscious you creep._

But there lay Clarke, with a Venturi mask to assist with the seemingly simple task of continuing the rise and fall of her chest. The room was filled with the steady beep of the heart monitor, the electronic lines climbing with each fighting breath only to fall again seconds later.

“Just wanted to say thank you for saving her.” Wells tentatively voiced and Bellamy was broken from the depth of his thoughts and suddenly realised he had been openly staring at Clarke. He looked over to Wells with confusion laced on his face.

“You said you were one of the first responders? And you are here now, so I’m assuming you were more than just a bystander in the whole process.” Wells clarified awkwardly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket with a raised eyebrow towards the man in front of him.

“I uh- actually wanted to return these to her. I found them yesterday in what was left of her car and thought she would want them back.” Bellamy rushes out, reaching into the pockets of his jacket revealing the brown low bridge frames.

“Oh wow, thank you.” Wells rushed out surprised, moving forward to take the pair of glasses from him and Bellamy was suddenly struck with a feeling of protectiveness for the small pair of frames. Shaking himself from it, he quickly handed them over to the other conscious occupant in the room before awkwardly sliding his eyes over to the woman lying in front of him.

Just as Bellamy was about to make an embarrassed exit from the room, a nurse came knocking into the room and Wells seemed to straighten up at the sight.

“Oh good, I was hoping to catch you before you left. We just got confirmation from radiography.” The nurse states with a hopeful smile on his face.

“Do you have the results from the CT?” Wells asked carefully, with concerned eyes looking towards the blonde woman in the bed opposite. The nurse follows his gaze with a sympathetic look in his eyes.

“It’s nothing we can’t treat. Miss Griffin suffers from Traumatic Pneumothorax which was caused by one of the broken ribs puncturing her lung. She also shows signs of a concussion, but we cannot confirm the severity of it until she wakes up. Until then, we will keep her on oxygen and slowly reduce the density of oxygen as her body repairs itself.” The nurse explains with a small smile on his face as he looks towards the unconscious patient, “At this stage, I can’t see her not making a full recovery and returning to normal life within the month.” He adds hopefully at the sight of Wells’ concerned face.

Bellamy stands off to the side of the room, unsure of his place in everything and self-conscious about listening in on what was meant to be a private conversation between medical staff and the family of the patient. He watches the nurse quickly check the numbers on Clarke’s charts and monitors before reminding Wells’ to press the button beside the bed if Clarke wakes. The man in question slumps in the chair beside the occupied bed, rubbing a hand over his face, exhaustion etched across it.

“She’ll be okay, I mean, from what I saw she won’t go down without a fight.” Bellamy suddenly voices tentatively, breaking the silence in the room. Almost regretting his decision to open his mouth, Bellamy prepares to run from the room until he sees Wells lift his head. His eyes filled with an emotion that Bellamy cannot place and suddenly he cannot seem to stop his mouth.

“At the crash I mean, a lot of people would have just stopped trying but despite all the pain she was in, she kept trying to stay awake until she couldn’t anymore. That doesn’t suggest someone who rolls over without a fight.” Bellamy quickly adds, risking a glance towards Clarke before looking back at Wells, who in return was staring at him with a range of unplaced emotions.

“Yeah, Clarke isn’t one to go out without having the final word,” Wells said finally, looking down at Clarke with a fond smile before looking back at Bellamy, subtle gratefulness for his words in his eyes.

The two lapsed into silence at that, Bellamy standing awkwardly near the base of Clarke’s bed and Wells hunched over the side of her bed from within the provided chair. Bellamy was not sure how much time passed but neither seemed sure how to move on from that particular conversation.

Wells’ eyeline moves past Bellamy and onto the clock behind him. Eyes widening, he stands up quickly and stutters out.

“Ah shoot, I don’t mean to be rude, but I have to go pick up Madi from day-care” his hand shoots out to grasp Bellamy’s extended hand once again before quickly adding, with a note of hesitance, “It was a pleasure meeting you and you are welcome to come back to visit of course, but only if you want.”

Bellamy ducks his head slightly at the insinuation bashfully before grabbing his own jacket.

“Ah, yeah I uh- should probably head out myself actually,” Bellamy stated awkwardly as Wells gathers his belongs, the beaten-up blue bomber jacket which Bellamy had missed before that moment. Wells gave him another short, sharp nod in response before looking over to Clarke once again and then leaving quickly.

Bellamy stood in the now vacant room, slightly confused at the sudden change in occupants before walking out himself. Maybe he will visit her again.

_You had been invited, not totally creepy now_ the voice inside his head commented as he made his way out of the hospital.

* * *

“Bell, you meet her once, half-conscious no less, and you’ve already promised to visit her again?” Octavia joked, shaking her head in disbelief as she reached across the table to steal a couple of chips from her brother’s plate, “Don’t you think that’s a tad weird?” She questions suddenly, head tilted upwards slightly, thoughtfully chewing on her stolen goods.

“Get your own chips and no, the thought had _never_ crossed my mind,” Bellamy responds, the last part of his sentence laced with sarcasm.

Getting lunch once a week in a neutral setting with his sister had been Bellamy’s idea initially, well maybe it stemmed from a suggestion from his therapist but who is counting, and for the past 3 months it had been working. Each week, Octavia seemed to be settling better into who she is as a person and honestly, if you asked Bellamy, it is the most content she had ever been. Whether it was a result of martial arts training, therapy or a structured routine he was not sure, but he was just grateful to have _some_ kind of relationship with his sister.

“Is she at least cute?” Octavia asks, half-serious, with an eyebrow raised tauntingly and a smirk plastered on her face.

“You know, it’s really hard to tell under an _oxygen mask_ O.” He sasses back to her, bringing his glass closer to his face to take a sip, “All I know is that I just returned her glasses and had a weird urge to check up on her, that’s all.” He added more seriously, staring at his sister, waiting for her judgement to come.

“Well you were invited I guess to visit, so maybe wait a couple of days and see if she is conscious then?” Octavia suggests, with a tentative tone in her voice before leaning over to steal another chip, “Just don’t get too invested okay? Despite my record, I don’t actually want to see you get hurt.” She carefully adds, a slight tilt of her head while biting her lip.

“Maybe,” Bellamy replied thoughtfully, bringing his half-eaten burger to his mouth to chew for a few moments before replying, “anyway, how are things going with your classes? Any changes in belt colours?”

Octavia knew he was trying to change the subject, most likely because he was uncomfortable with where the conversation was headed and tried to regain control of the situation. And she let him, not knowing why or how this accident victim had got Bellamy caring about someone for the first time in years but cautious regardless. She knew Bellamy was often led with his heart, afraid of someone taking advantage of that fierce love he gave to those in his life.

Time would only tell, she thought dryly before letting her older brother steer the conservation away from the blonde which currently plagued the very depth of his minds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely sure what this chapter was tbh, but I felt like I needed to set the scene slightly. I was conflicted as to whether to have Clarke conscious or not but I thought a punctured lung warranted the excuse for awkward Wells and Bellamy.   
> Sorry, the section with Octavia is so small but I'm still figuring out the role she is going to play in this so I thought I would do a little intro of her now and then have some more in-depth scenes with her later on!  
> Please let me know what you think xx


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Going to see sleeping beauty again?” Miller teased at the end of their shift the previous day, tossing his jacket into his locker and slamming it shut with an air of finality. Bellamy ducked his head, not sure to be embarrassed or annoyed at Miller’s constant playful questioning about Clarke. 
> 
> He settled on a combination of both when Harper joined in with Miller with the cheerful mocking as they packed up their belongings for the evening, or early morning at that point. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did everyone think of the trailer??? I am really hoping that the lack of Bellamy is because we are finally getting a plotline for Bellamy outside of Octavia and Clarke and not because they kill him off (I'm storming the CW if that's the case). Did anyone get any theories or speculation? Did anyone else notice that there was a frame of Echo where she has the same tattoos Hope had at the end of season 6 from the anomaly on her forehead? I think spacekru might be jumping into the green fire at some point. Also, was that Finn's jacket in one of the frames???  
> Anyway, moving on from my weird trailer rambles (can you tell I have no friends interested in The 100 to talk to? Haha) and I hope everyone likes this chapter! This one is more focused on moving forward the plotline so there is a couple of time jumps but very tiny ones!

Bellamy waited a couple of days before returning to the hospital, visiting in the morning before he started his next shift at the station. As he drove into the car park outside the entrance of the hospital, he had to remind himself that Wells himself had invited him to come back and visit Clarke, so it was not completely creepy to do so. 

His feet took him towards the ICU without him properly noticing and Bellamy was faced with the decision as to whether to go in or not. He could just walk away, and no one would be the wiser and yet, there was a something deep in him, calling him towards the doorway of Clarke’s room. 

Bellamy knocked tentatively, and quite uselessly, on the glass door of the hospital room. Peeking his head into the sunlight room, he discovered it to be empty except for the woman still unconscious on the bed in the centre of the far-left wall. There was a therapeutic consistency to the heart monitor, the rhythmic beeps giving a sense of purpose to the otherwise still room. As if there was contained energy. 

He stepped further into the room, unsure of his presence without Wells to confirm his welcome. Next to her bed, there was a small collection of colouring pages. Each with a collection of scribbles and painted handprints and sentences written across the top or bottom. All ranging in declarations of love for ‘mummy’, but the handwriting was too controlled and mature to be from a small child still doing handprints. Indicating someone older must have helped. Something clicked in Bellamy’s mind, Madi must be Clarke’s daughter. No wonder she was calling out to her on the scene of the crash. 

_ Is Madi’s father still in the picture?  _ He wondered thoughtlessly. The nurse previously had referred to Clarke as ‘miss’ but he knew well enough not to assume anything from that simple piece of knowledge. 

“Oh, hi there!” A cheery voice broke out from behind him, head whipping around Bellamy watched as one of the nurses come into the room with a clipboard in her grasp. Not understanding the growing embarrassment on Bellamy’s face as he realised, she thought that he was family and not a total stranger visiting an unconscious person he had met three days ago. 

“You’re a new face, I’m glad this lovely lady got people to visit her. It’s usually just that delightful other man with the strange name, uh, oh what was it?” She stops for a second, still in thoughtfulness and then something seems to register in her mind, “Wells, that’s it. No family or anything, just him. Oh, and this other nice man with all the tattoos but that’s it. Poor thing must get awfully lonely.” The nurse happily continues to chatter as she checks all the monitors, writing down any apparent changes.

“Lonely?” Chokes out Bellamy, quite dumbly, unsure what to say in such situation. Being caught at the bedside of a woman you barely know is not a social scene he was equipped to deal with. 

“It’s more than quickly she can hear what’s going on around her or aware to an extent of people around her. She’s just still sleeping, aren’t you?” The nurse directed the question at the end towards Clarke as if she would wake up only to answer. 

“She can hear us?” He gasped out, somehow shocked. He had seen enough trashy tv to know that some patients can hear when people talk to them when they are unconscious but the confirmed knowledge that Clarke could hear  _ everything _ set him back. 

But what hit him next is not the instances where she could hear everything around her but instead the time where she could not hear anything at all. The long stretches of silence in between the visiting hours which he was sure Wells was making use of when he could. Only having nurses discussing the changes in her healing process as comfort. Suddenly, some part of Bellamy’s heart lurched, if only to make another human not feel alone. 

He made a mental promise to himself to visit her more often, even if it was only for a short amount of time and she did not know him. 

_ No one deserves to be alone _

* * *

” Ah, prince charming! How is your sleeping beauty doing on this marvellous day?” Called out Miller, mockingly bowing as Bellamy entered the small locker room where the rest of the crew were packing away their belongings before their shift began. 

The room was lined with metal lockers, each a meter long which wrapped around the walls of the space. Placed in the middle of the room were wooden benches where the firefighters were able to sit and lace up their boots. It always eerily reminded Bellamy of the changing rooms from his high school days and unconsciously he always expected the PE teacher to come in and yell at them. Instead, that role was replaced by Marcus Kane, the department chief. He acted as a father-like figure to many of the members of the crew but was not afraid of running a tight ship when required. 

“Ha ha, how long did it take for you think that one up?” Responded Bellamy with a lazy smirk gracing his features, as he walked to his locker, coincidentally right next to Millers. 

“What’s this about sleeping beauty? Is  _ the  _ Bellamy Blake finally getting out there?” A teasingly curious voice popped out from behind one of the open locker doors. A blonde head of braids emerged from behind the metal door and Bellamy was faced with the teasing faces of his friends on either side of his locker. 

“Remember that MVA in Arkadia Central on Monday, McIntyre? Well Bellamy here got all protective over one of the victims,” gossiped Miller, dramatically leaning across Bellamy to get closer to Harper, “ _ and  _ he visited her in hospital under the guise of returning her glasses and yet you’ve been back since.” Miller directed the last part towards Bellamy with a teasing glance. Harper looked over to Bellamy with a mockingly shocked face, her mouth slightly open and her eyebrows quirked upwards. 

“ _ Ooh,  _ so much for your ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am attitude.” Sassed Harper as she reached into her locker to grab her fire fighting jacket, “so, what’s she like?” She asked as she shrugged on the thick jumper, which they typically wear during the winter months. 

“Pretty quiet considering she is still unconscious,” Bellamy started with a light, tentative tone to his voice. Knowing how weird it sounds to visit a stranger, let alone someone who was not even conscious for the majority of their interactions. 

“So… a real talkative first date I’m guessing?” Questioned Miller, with a confused look on his face but trying to save face with a joking remark. 

“I wasn’t going to go back but then I found out she might be able to hear what goes on around her and realised she might be lonely. The nurse accidentally let it slip that she doesn’t have many visitors.” Bellamy replied, a searching look in his eyes as he implored his friends to understand his reasoning. Purely platonic, non-creepy, reasons. 

There was not anything else to this. Nope

“Well,” Harper started as she rounded around to Miller and lumped an arm around his shoulder before looking back to Bellamy, “I think it’s sweet you are doing something so nice for a stranger.” She said gently, with a quiet smile on her face. 

An alarm sounded out across the locker room and suddenly all traces of gentle smiles or teasing remarks were pushed aside. The trio reached into their lockers, grabbing their heavy overcoats as per the uniform before moving out of the cramped room with practised precision. Bellamy tried to shove any thought of the blonde princess from his mind as he stalked across the large warehouse containing the fire trucks and pulled himself up into one before slamming the door behind him. Miller jumped in on the other side along with another member of their crew, Bryan. 

He knew he had to focus on his job otherwise he could make a deadly mistake. So, with that, any thoughts of Clarke were banished to the back of his mind. 

* * *

Despite Miller’s teasing and with the nurse’s confirmation of Clarke’s limited awareness, Bellamy made his way back to the ICU the following morning, regardless of the long shift he knew he would be doing later that afternoon at the station. 

_ “Going to see sleeping beauty again?” Miller teased at the end of their shift the previous day, tossing his jacket into his locker and slamming it shut with an air of finality. Bellamy ducked his head, not sure to be embarrassed or annoyed at Miller’s constant playful questioning about Clarke.  _

_ He settled on a combination of both when Harper joined in with Miller with the cheerful mocking as they packed up their belongings for the evening, or early morning at that point.  _

Bellamy walked through the now-familiar corridor of the ICU before reaching the open doorway of Clarke’s room. Spying a hunched over figure beside the bedside, Bellamy was quickly struck with a sudden feeling of panic. What happens if Wells did not mean when he said Bellamy was welcome to come visit if he wanted and he is, in fact, participating in some creepy, stalkerish behaviour? Before Bellamy could walk, run, away from the room, Wells seemed to sense that there was movement at the doorway and shifted his body to face Bellamy. 

“Hi there, Bellamy, right?” Wells said with an easy smile on his face. He stood up and walked towards the door, stretching out a hand for Bellamy to shake. 

“Hi, uh-yeah that’s me,” Bellamy responded somewhat awkwardly, quickly clearing his thought before adding, “I just wanted to check in and see how she was doing. I was here yesterday actually.” Bellamy confessed, knowing it was better to be upfront with his visit the previous day, lest some nurse who was on call yesterday let it slip that Bellamy was around and Wells had no idea. 

“Do you give this special treatment for every accident victim you meet, or should I be worried?” Wells joked before letting Bellamy into the room, not noticing Bellamy freezing slightly as he spoke. Not realising his words hit closer to his initial panic but also relieved that a restraining order had not been placed in front of him the minute he walked into the room. 

“The nurse accidentally told me that she didn’t have many visitors and I don’t know, I thought she might want some company as weird as it sounds.” Bellamy responded truthfully, stepping into the room, “the nurse also mentioned that she might be somewhat aware of people around her.” He added quickly as if to explain his previous point on loneliness. 

Wells stared at him for a moment, something knowledgeable in his expression, as if he could see something before him that Bellamy could not quite understand. Just yet. Bellamy held his gaze until Wells looked away to stare back the woman lying in front of him. A silence stretched out in the quiet room, the constant beeps of the heart rate monitor cutting the stillness with each rise and fall of Clarke’s chest. 

“Clarke’s family is not very warm if you get what I mean, so Lincoln and I tag-team Clarke’s bedside watch in between shifts and day-care hours. I didn’t want Madi to see her like this.” Wells supplied suddenly, breaking the peace in the otherwise still room, “Madi is her daughter.” He clarified quickly. 

“Uh yeah, I saw the pile of small masterpieces before on Clarke’s bedside,” Bellamy responded, before regretting his choice of words, hoping he did not sound like a stalker who looks through drawings from a small child. 

_ Real smooth Blake _

“Yeah, that’s Madi handiwork. She gives me a new drawing each day for mum so she can get better.” Wells replied, a grin breaking over his face at the thought of his goddaughter and looked over to where the colourful pieces of paper were placed on the bedside next to Clarke. Ready for when the blonde woman woke up and admire the artwork produced by her daughter. 

“The nurse said they’ve reduced the density of oxygen so Clarke should hopefully be awake in the next day or so,” Wells continued, a hopeful expression overtaking his features as he stared down at his friend, “but I just wanted to say thank you for visiting her.” He added quietly causing Bellamy to look up startled, not expecting gratitude from the man in front of him. 

“I mean, you are practically a stranger and yet you took time out of your days to see if someone else was okay. You’ve done more than many would, and I think that warrants a thank you.” Wells stated, focusing his gaze towards the other man in the room, a warm smile gracing his face and soft eyes. As if Bellamy had promised Clarke one of his kidneys and not a couple of spare hours of his time. 

“I know what’s it like to lose someone, and I know what’s like to be alone when that happens,” Bellamy said vaguely in response, his eyes straying away from Wells and instead of looking on a random spot in front of him, eyes unfocused as past trauma races through his eyes. “Besides, it’s no hassle on my part to come here,” he added quickly, moving the conversation away from himself and trying to force a more jovial tone. 

Wells nods sagely at Bellamy, eyes open with unspoken sympathy as they lapsed into a more comfortable silence with the heart rate monitor beeping softly in the background. A sense of security. Comfort. It wasn’t until a small chime sounded out from Bellamy’s phone did, he realise that he needed to start leaving to prepare for his next shift at the station. 

Bidding a quiet goodbye to Wells, unable to disturb the sudden peace which had fallen upon the room, Bellamy left with a small echo of footsteps down the ICU. Feeling more comfortable with his decision to visit Clarke in the first place, he knew there was something about that woman which would continue to draw him back. 

* * *

The following day Bellamy rounded the corner of the ICU, a couple of meters away from the doorway of Clarke’s room, expecting to be greeted by the sight of Wells hunched over the bedside of Clarke’s hospital once again. Instead, just as he was about to enter the room, he heard the frustrated voice of Wells break out. 

“Get back into bed Clarke, I’m serious.”

“Seriously, I’m fine.” A feminine voice huffed, and Bellamy’s heart skipped a beat. 

_ Was that Clarke? _

“You have a grade 3 concussion Clarke, now get back into bed or I’m calling a nurse.” Responded Wells in an exasperated tone and Bellamy could not help but quirk a small smile. Years of experience with his energetic little sister made him well versed in frustration of forcing a sick person into bed. 

“Wells-” the woman’s reply was broken off with the sound of a button being pressed and Bellamy looked over to the nurse’s station to see one of the nurses move quickly towards the open glass door. He could hear the muttering of Clarke as she was ushered back into the hospital bed by Wells and the nurse. 

“Well aren’t you looking wide awake miss, my name is Anya. I am just going to start with some quick questions if that is okay? Can you tell me your name?” the nurse, Anya, asked with a professional tone lacing her voice.

Bellamy, from his position near the door, could hear the clear responses from Clarke. The nurse questioned Clarke on her date of birth and what year it was which the blonde woman in question answered with ease, but it was not until the final question did Bellamy’s heart skipped a beat in worry. 

“Can you tell me who the president is?” The nurse continues to ask as she checks for signs of trauma or permanent repercussions of the car crash. However, it is this question that stops Clarke short and the blonde looks up at the nurse, from her lowered position on the bed, and glares quite openly. Bellamy looked taken back at the sudden anger from her, and he was filled with sudden panic. What happens if she cannot remember recent events? But what confused Bellamy more was the amused look Wells was giving his life-long friend. As if this was expected behaviour. 

“Don’t make me say it.” Clarke huffs, continuing to glare non-threateningly towards the nurse, who in return, laughs outright at her answer. Marking a box on her clipboard, she continues to ask a couple more questions before moving to look at the stats on the monitor beside the hospital bed. 

** “ ** Well, you’ve got a sense of humour so that’s a good sign. You are being treated for Traumatic Pneumothorax, several broken ribs and you showed signs of a concussion when they brought you in. On a scale of 1-10 would you rate your current pain?” Anya asked with a bit more apparent friendliness to her tone. There was a slight pause in responses from Clarke before Bellamy could hear her voice again. 

“I got a sharp pain in my head when I stood up and everything seemed to sway so I’m guessing that’s from the concussion. Um, maybe a 6?” Clarke responded with slight resignation, as if already tired of her condition. Like the world awaits her and this only hinders her progress in life. 

Bellamy knocked tentatively on the glass door of the room, keeping his body outside the invisible barrier of the room, allowing space for refusal in need be. The blonde woman looked up quickly at the male standing in the doorway of the room and her eyes narrowed in confusion. As if his existence were buried deep in her subconscious and she could not quite grasp his reasoning for being in her subconscious in the first place. His relationship with her just outside of her reach. 

“Who are you?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Da da dunnnnn, Clarke is awake! This can finally stop verging on semi-creepy (thank god haha) and the real Bellarke angst can begin! But I promise there is also fluff to come but we've gotta have some on-brand Bellarke arguments first - think season 1 style arguments.   
> Please let me know what you think or leave kudos so I know I am moving in the right direction or if anyone has any ideas on what's going to happen? Because I've got some vague plot outline but if anyone wants to jump in with suggestions please do!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Who are you?”  
> Bellamy stopped short at the doorway of the hospital. Suddenly paralysed by the fear of what a colossal mistake his actions were. How waking up in hospital after a crash is scary enough, let alone having a random man waltz into your room. His feet were frozen in their spot at the entryway, his hand still raised, somewhat stupidly in the air, as if suspended by his dread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay.... so obviously it's been a while so sorry about that guys but I accidentally deleted the file which had all my pre-written chapters on it and because my computer is so old and crappy it didn't have any back-ups saved so I ended up re-writing a lot of stuff. Ew I know. 
> 
> Anyway, sorry this is more of filler but I wanted to set up more of Bellamy's life and his relationship with the rest of his family. Next chapter will pretty much only focus on Clarke/Bellamy because I think we all need that at the moment, with the whole 5 seconds we were graced with either of them on our screen this season so far. Low key loving the Bardo plotline, just wish they hadn't thrown it in for the last season... I mean, there are only 7 more episodes to wrap up EVERYTHING. Rip us

“ _Who are you?”_

Bellamy stopped short at the doorway of the hospital. Suddenly paralysed by the fear of what a colossal mistake his actions were. How waking up in hospital after a crash is scary enough, let alone having a random man waltz into your room. His feet were frozen in their spot at the entryway, his hand still raised, somewhat stupidly in the air, as if suspended by his dread.

Wells seemed to sense the rising tension in the air and stepped around, still close to Clarke’s side as if he was protecting his friend now that she was vulnerable to the waking world, but the body still pointed towards Bellamy. He glanced over at the man in the doorway with a reassuring smile before looking down at the blonde woman in the bed.

“This is Bellamy. He was the firefighter at the scene of your crash and he just came to visit and how you were feeling.” Wells explained gently, yet his tone never reached condescending levels of care. As he knew, despite her more physically fragile state as a result of the collision, Clarke could handle herself.

 **“** I was uh- just worried about you and came to see if things were improving for you.” Bellamy supplied awkwardly, moving into the room with slight trepidation, still unsure about his place in the room and the nurse, who before that moment was hovering self-consciously in the corner of the interaction, bustled around from the other side of the bed.

“Unfortunately, unless this man is family or on the emergency contact list he will have to leave. We need to do some more tests now that Ms Griffin is awake." The nurse stated, nodding her head towards the door and staring at Bellamy with careful consideration. 

**”** I can just go, I mean. I’m really glad to see you awake and okay Ms Griffin,” Bellamy stated, somewhat stiffly with embarrassment as he moved back towards the door.

“Wait !” Clarke’s voice rang out just as Bellamy turned his back to exit the room and despite his mind screaming at him the run out of the hospital and never to return again, his body halted as the sound of her voice. It was quiet for the few seconds it took for Bellamy to turn around and face the woman lying in the bed. Still connected to all the monitors and yet her posture held a determined, defiant nature.

“They’ll probably want to keep me in here for another day or two at a minimum, for testing, right?” Directing the last part of the sentence towards the nurse standing awkwardly in the middle of the two of them, waiting for her to mutely nod at the question before continuing to talk, “I would really appreciate if we could talk? You know, have an interaction where I’m not half or fully unconscious?” Clarke finished, with a small laugh at herself and the situation.

Bellamy nodded hesitantly after a moment, somewhat befuddled at the turn of events but no less happy. That internal pull towards the blonde had not decreased by any means since learning she was awake, and he was confused as to what it meant. Never knowing an urge to protect someone so fiercely outside of his own family before.

He left the hospital with the promise of returning the day after tomorrow and the image of the blonde woman fighting a happy smile once he had agreed to return to the hospital after his next night shift.

* * *

The sound of uncoordinated thumps forcefully hit the outside of his apartment body and Bellamy forced himself off the small stool next to his counter and towards the door, knowing exactly who was on the other side.

The brunet male opened the door and immediately looked down to the culprit of the banging, seeing wide hazel staring back up him with a wide grin stretched across his face. Almost instantly, Bellamy’s arms were filled with a small child leaping into them and he warmly greeted his nephew.

_“You would think with parents named Octavia and Lincoln we could have picked something more unique,” Lincoln had statement with pride beaming from his very being when Bellamy had first been introduced to his nephew Ethan._

_“Just because you think it’s totally acceptable to name a baby after mythology doesn’t mean I will. I wanted to give him a fighting chance at school Bell.” Octavia had retorted to him at the time, laying on the hospital bed with the small bundle of new life in her arms when Bellamy teasingly questions her on the normalcy of Ethan’s name._

_“I just hope you never have children otherwise that poor child is going to be saddled with a name like Persephone or Apollo.” Octavia snorted with a lovingly grin towards her brother, who while putting on a teasing facade, was brimming with pride for his baby sister._

_“Athena is a perfectly acceptable name O.”_

“I hope we aren’t too late?” A voice question from above the head of curls currently obscuring Bellamy’s view and he tilted his head to see his sister standing, hand in hand with Lincoln a foot away from the embracing family members, “a certain someone didn’t want to wear shoes.” She jokingly directed the last part of her sentence towards her firstborn and lifted her other hand, were Bellamy could see a small pair of children’s shoes clasped along with her bag.

“No later than every other week.” He responded, a tongue-in-cheek tone lacing his voice and he stood up, grabbing a small hand belonging to his nephew before stepping back into his apartment. The other two adults following behind, staring looks of amusement as the young toddler happily babbled on about his day, not quite getting all the words coherent and understandable within the English language but no less enthused at the chance to talk to another human.

The three adults move around the small kitchen with ease, having done the routine numerous times. And soon they were all seated at the small, somewhat cramped dining room table within the single apartment.

“How is the dojo going?” Bellamy asked politely, discretely moving his carrots to one side of his plate as he focused on the items of food which could be deemed edible. Octavia obliviously munching on the soggy carrots she had prepared earlier in the day as she recounted stories from her dojo and small rivalries which built up among the students.

Every week Bellamy and Octavia made a concerted effort to get their family together for an early dinner before Bellamy’s night shift as he didn’t have to go into the station until 10pm more often than not. Finding that spending time with his family beforehand, particularly his energetic nephew and scheming sister aided in staying alert in preparation for a long night in the station.

“… and her tiny foot just shot straight up and _whacked_ him so hard behind the knees that this 6ft boy just crumbled at the feet of this tiny girl. He totally deserved it though.” Octavia finished laughing, obviously thinking back to one of the female students she had taken under her wing since opening her own business.

Ethan’s innocent laugh floated through the air as well, unaware as to why the adults at the dinner table were chuckling so hard but not wanting to miss out on the moment. Feet kicking in excitement.

“So, Bell,” Octavia drew out the last syllable of his nickname and instantly Bellamy was on edge. Lincoln’s movements halted for a second while feeding Ethan, his eyes sliding up to the peer at the siblings before bruising himself with the small child currently trying to slip a carrot into the back of the seat.

“Any updates from this sleeping beauty you were caught up on last time, big bro?” She asked teasingly, a sly smirk grew on her lips at the sight of the small blush creeping up Bellamy’s face.

“I promised I would go see her again tomorrow,” Bellamy said simply, trying to avoid the narrowing gaze of his sister and the inevitable questions she would have. His head titled down towards his plate, trying to appear nonchalant as he spent longer than necessary cutting the food into smaller pieces.

“Promised? What did you use an Ouija board to contact her from the other plane?” Octavia’s voice broke out from her side of the table.

“Mummy? What’s a ou-oogy board?” Ethan questioned, tongue struggling over the word and his voice being somewhat muffled by the plastic spoon poking out from the side of his mouth. The female in question leant down in question and wiped up the food spilling from the sides of her child’s mouth before Lincoln answered.

“It’s a- uh, it’s a special piece of paper that lets you talk to people who aren’t around anymore.” He said, hesitantly, eyes peeking up at his wife in silent questioning. Ethan seemed to accept the answer for the moment.

“No, she woke up yesterday and asked me to come back tomorrow. Probably to discuss why I stood over her bed creepily and hand me a restraining order.” Bellamy cynically responded before Ethan’s curious voice broke out again.

“Where did fwe people go? Did they get lwost?”

“No hun, they didn’t get lost. Sometimes people just go away and don’t come back. Uh, they go on a really long holiday and decide they like it so much, so they stay there.” Octavia continued to navigate around the Pandora’s box she opened, shooting stares of horror to Lincoln at the thought of having to explain death right that moment.

“But I thought hwolidays were good?”

“Well… this is a special kind of holiday. Not everyone goes on them.” Lincoln quickly intervened and Ethan moved his focus towards his father, rapt in the new information being given to his small world. The small boy looked back to his mother, who nodded her head in confirmation at this statement, somewhat thankfully at her husband for avoiding the discussion of death.

“Roma’s granma went away. She cwried a lot and we all gave her hugs.” Ethan stated sagely, in only a way that a three-year-old could do so.

“Sometimes people cry when people they love go away. Some people love them so much that they try and talk to them with the special piece of paper.” Octavia explained gently to her son, looking down on the eagerly curious eyes staring back up at her.

“Does that mean Unca Bell lovbed the princess so he could talk to her?”

All that could be heard was the sounds of Bellamy’s head forcefully landing in his hands and Octavia’s gleeful crackles at her son’s antics while Lincoln quietly chuckled at Ethan’s innocent questions.

**Author's Note:**

> So that was chapter 1! I'll probably try and update once a week, if not more regularly! But any comments or kudos would be really appreciated, even just to let me know that someone is reading this haha. I hope you all enjoyed reading the beginning of a who-knows-how-long-fanfic! But I do have plans for this stretching out for at least 10 chapters, give or take!


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